Foresight
by Eliza4892
Summary: This is one promise Sawyer intends to keep.


"Read to me." The boy's soft plea fell on deaf ears, that were far too used to hearing these same words every night.

He stared down at the child, who twisted under the thin airline blanket. "I read to you last night. You got to pace yourself in this place. It's not like I can go down to the bookstore when you run out." It didn't occur to him that patience was an entirely foreign concept to a five year old until after he'd said it. The same could be said for the bookstore.

"But you never finished the bunny book." A small hand reached out for the paperback copy of _Watership Down _that had definitely seen better days. As books went it wasn't exactly age appropriate reading but it was tamer than some of the others. Romance novels that could pass for soft-core porn and, oddly enough, a lot of self-help type things were the norm. Books rescued from the hatch were Tolstoy and Shakespeare level reading—not exactly kid friendly. So they had this right now. They were over halfway done with it. They'd be farther if he hadn't thought to stretch his supply out in a futile effort to make them last. Sawyer cursed the day he got the idea to read to the boy.

"I know that. Besides I ain't gonna finish it tonight no matter if I read it now or not." He didn't know why the boy was so adamant about reading it anyway; he probably only understood half of it. Nevertheless he hoped the kid would just give up and go to sleep before Sawyer just went ahead and gave in. He didn't have the patience necessary when it came to dealing with children. He wasn't cut out for being this little boy's caregiver. Or his protector for that matter.

"Please, just one more chapter." The look in his eyes was the same one the boy's mother used to get whatever she wanted from him. Sawyer had fallen into one too many traps, gave up one too many things because of those looks. Gave up everything but the one thing he wished he could've.

Sawyer sat back, finding it increasingly harder to hold his ground. "Tomorrow." The child frowned, pouting. "You'll thank me in a few months when we haven't run out of new material." He didn't bother to add the possibility of rescue into the equation. It had been too long for that and, truth be told, he didn't even want to go back. There was nothing there for him.

"You won't run out," the boy replied. "Mom said that you have nine tenths of the stuff on the island stashed away." He didn't necessarily understand the words so much as he was just repeating them exactly as he'd heard them spoken. It made his chest tighten how much the kid reminded him of her. Kate. Damn her and her favors. She'd made him promise to take care of the boy with the green-gray eyes that mirrored hers. It was an oath, and he treated it as such. Something that wasn't to be broken.

"Your mother was wrong." Sawyer said, his words bitter, making the boy pull back and curl into himself, recoiling. He felt bad instantly, recognizing some of himself in the child, remembering the one time his father's sister had referred to his mother as a whore, that his daddy had only done what was right. Remembering the sick feeling he got in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't right to talk ill of the dead. "She was right about a lot of things but she was wrong about me."

"That's what you always say about everyone." The boy answered, although he relaxed, no longer frozen under the dark tone Sawyer had taken. He had a point and Sawyer looked away from him with a hardened jaw. "If you didn't scare people off maybe they'd know you."

Sawyer suddenly felt the need to protest. "I don't scare everyone off." He barely believed his own words. He didn't know why he was trying to explain himself, like he was the child in this scenario. "Still got you here don't I kid?"

"That's only cause mom and dad are up there," the child stuck one finger straight up toward the sky, blocked from their view by the blue tarp that served as a roof. Heaven, Sawyer surmised, was what the boy meant. Sawyer didn't believe in heaven anymore, but he could entertain the idea for the child's sake. If anyone would be up there it would be the island's resident do-gooders.

He looked down, swallowing hard, "Yeah? And who told you that?"

"Mr. Locke," the boy answered, adding, "He said that mom made you promise to take care of me before she went away. That's why you don't try to scare me off. 'Cause you have to do what she says."

"_Freckles you're nuts, alright. Doc will patch you up just fine." He'd said, stooped over where she reclined. Jack had been dragged out by Sun barely minutes ago. She said he needed fresh air and a chance to revaluate the situation. It was bullshit, Sawyer knew, but then again Sun was as much of a liar as the rest of them._

"_Sawyer, shut up, okay." Her voice was hoarse but she gripped at his arm with surprising strength. "I need you to look after him okay. I need to know you'll do that for me. Jack can't…he's strong but it'll take time. He can't handle taking care of a child by himself." She coughed roughly, suddenly, but calmed after a moment. "One last favor."_

Of all the people she could've chosen, it somehow had to be him. She could've asked Sun or Claire. Both had kids; both of them knew what to do with them. But a part of Sawyer wondered if Kate always knew that Jack would go soon after she did. Maybe she had better foresight than he did. It would explain why she had picked Sawyer to care for her son.

Sawyer didn't like kids. He wasn't very good with them either. Sure his voice had been the only thing able to calm Aaron what seemed like eons ago, but that was different. That was as simple as reading out of a magazine for an hour until his voice was hoarse and the baby was quiet. He understood this little boy though, for one ever-present reason. He knew what it was like to lose your parents at a young age. It was the common bond that threaded them together. It made the kid different from the others on the island. Kate knew his past and, while he told people otherwise, she may just have known him too. She knew well enough to know he could handle this, even when no one else believed he could, not even himself.

"Locke's full of it." Sawyer amended finally, feeling the need to say something to let the boy know that he's here because he wants to be. He's not forced to. Not anymore. The kid gives him purpose, knowing that while one promise lies folded in the back pocket of his worn in jeans, unfulfilled, there's one he can keep sitting right here.

"_I swear Kate."_

With a sigh, he picked up the book that lay next to his hip, opening it to the dog-eared page with the _Chapter 23 _written as it's header, caving with a heavy sigh as he began to read.


End file.
